


The Christmas Spirit

by Wolfermann



Category: Outlast (Video Games), Outlast Whistleblower
Genre: Canon- Misogyn, Canon-Typical Violence, Everything Eddie Gluskin basically, Holiday Cheer, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:57:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2816294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfermann/pseuds/Wolfermann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a few connected stories about the holidays featuring Eddie Gluskin before and during the events of Mount Massive. Also including the Groom and his Bride experiencing their first Christmas together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Past

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first piece of fanfiction I've written in years. The first chapter is based off of a collection of headcanons I have of Eddie and his childhood.

If he had to name a favorite season, it would be Christmas. From the time between Halloween and December 25th, Eddie felt in the joyous spirit of the season.

He could pin point it to the sense of wonder he experienced as a small boy. He firmly believed in Santa Clause like any boy his age up until he was in his teens, by then he had already grown mentally from the abuses he faced at the hands of his father and uncle.

Despite his haphazard childhood, the one the doctors insisted was real and not the one he had “created for himself,” Eddie could still recall his happiest memory. It was that of the eighth Christmas his childhood. The night before he spent watching fat snowflakes trickle down outside the window, pressing his face against the cool glass and trying to get a glimpse at the mystic figure with his sleigh and reindeer. He could have sworn he saw some flash of light in the sky that indicated to him at the time as a sign before he fell asleep there, but now he figured it had to be a plane or some figure of his young imagination. He woke the next morning to find himself placed in his own bed and the thrill of Christmas morning surge through him.

Young Eddie rushed downstairs to the silver tree draped in tinsel and shining ornaments. A few presents were laid out before him under the tree, more than what he remembered from the night before. One package in particular wrapped up in gold paper and topped with a large blue bow stood out to him and he launched himself onto with the fervor of a person his age.

“Now Edward,” His mother scolded him softly. “You have to wait for your father.” He felt himself deflate a bit, a whine just about to escape his lips as his father appeared. He was in one of his better moods, one that accompanied the holidays (perhaps that was another reason why Eddie enjoyed this time of year so much.)

“Open it, boy.” And by his command he tore into the paper, revealing just what he had asked for: his own personal sewing machine. His father had let him borrow the one in his shop occasionally under the guidance of his mother but the boy wanted to have access to his own. He’d already began a series of rudimentary sketches which he kept tucked away in his room and had learned the art of hand sewing from his mother (who reluctantly let him, since he was a boy. Oh how she lectured him on how he had to find a proper girl who could do this for him.) He felt a surge of happiness, he didn’t even want to open the other gifts lying in wait for him. His parents looked down at him the amusement adults have once their children open a gift they’ve been begging for all year.

~~

The rest of the day was spent as a mix of mass (they were good Catholics after all) and helping his mother prepare a lovely meal for the family. His uncle did come to visit but his wandering hands stayed in place that day and he didn’t insist the boy sit on his lap after dinner. Finally with everything clean, his mother gently ushered him into a jacket and mittens and led him out into the night. They walked the neighborhood together to go look at the lights along the houses. His family never put on such a display but they enjoyed it all the same. He gazed up at the displays of vibrant reds, greens, blues, and purples, not entirely sure which one is thought looked the best. He never felt happier in this moment than any other time in his life.

~~

Of course as he grew older, he still enjoyed Christmas. Though after a while the season brought on a strange sense of loneliness, particularly after his mother’s passing. He yearned for something more; for someone to dote on and celebrate with, but most of all he wanted a family. One where he could watch their small faces twist in delight as his once did. But his chances dissipated with each year and his reclusion. He wanted to be with others but his distrust grew yearly until his little “hobby” was discovered near one Christmas and that’s how he ended up institutionalized.

He’d spent years being passed around several places but they were all the same in the end. Every place he had been had put in some sort of effort, some more so than others, to celebrate the holiday season. Whether that was to show some sort of pleasantry or decoration, it was the one time Eddie allowed himself to socialize with the others. Even the shit hole Mount Massive had at least given the lot of them a decent moment for Christmas, before bleeding them dry for profit. He’d sworn to himself, even as he felt the passing of his memories trickle from him with each shove into the engine that he wouldn’t forget about that one happy day. And maybe even one day he might even celebrate again.


	2. The Present: The Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon is having trouble remembering just who he was before the riot. Eddie tries to bring some holiday cheer to his home in Mount Massive.

Waylon took in a few haggard breaths, repeating to himself, “I am Waylon Park. I blew the whistle on Murkoff. I have a wife, Lisa, and two boys waiting for me. I’m alive-,” before it was punctuated by the music drifting from the nearby work room.

Soft bleating of an older singer, one he couldn’t remember the name of anymore, filled his ears. The ex-employee curled inward into a ball on the mattress he occupied. He took it as a sign that his husband wouldn’t bother him.

Waylon had no sense of time after he fell literally into Eddie’s lair. From his time begging the Groom to keep him whole, to their macabre wedding next to the room of strung up trophies, he lost track of how many days had passed. He had heard whispers between the walls that Murkoff had sent in mercenaries to clear the place out, which sent a sliver of hope through him (whether that was for freedom or his own death he didn’t know.)

If it wasn’t for the accidental day when Waylon had fucked up, accidentally ripping the dress his husband had so lovingly made for him then he wouldn’t know what season it was. Eddie had chased him through their home, seething and ready to give his wife the beating she deserved when his bride knocked over his radio in an attempt to get away from him. The radio often blaring Eddie’s preferred classical swing, switched stations to one playing a familiar tune of jingle bells. The Groom immediately froze, his head jerking to the source of the music while Waylon cowered in the corner.

“Darling,” Eddie looked at him with what would have been delight if he didn’t have the scabs and scars across his face, “Why didn’t you tell me Christmas was coming?” Waylon had never been more thankful in his life for a god awful Christmas song. Since then Eddie had been on some sort of kick, constantly busying himself around their territory. The ex-employee made sure to keep out of his way. A piece of him whispered how he could escape now and the other man wouldn’t even notice but he couldn’t risk it. Not since the day Eddie had taken his camera, threatening to destroy it if he tried to leave again (there had been so many attempts…) And it wouldn’t matter, nothing would matter if he couldn’t bring Murkoff down.

Parts of him remembered a time where he wasn’t in Mount Massive. Christmas for him had been a mixed time of happiness. Waylon had grown up with a hardworking single mother and two younger sisters, he received more delight watching his sisters open up gifts than whatever he received. Their holidays were small but fulfilling. Later when he was all by himself in college, Christmas was a lonely time. One where he longed for home cooked meals and the company of family. When he started dating Lisa, things were less lonely. It wasn’t until he had a family of his own that the joy of the season fully returned to him. Waylon swallowed a lump forming in his throat at the memory of his boys last Christmas, their delight as they opened their gifts and played in the snow. Each year he worked hard to make the holidays wonderful for his boys. He felt a deep ache open up inside him, yearning to be back with them instead of locked up in this hell.

“Darrrrllinngg.” Waylon cringed at the sing song calling. “Where are you?” The ex-employee pulled himself up, tugging down the pale blue dress hanging off of his slight frame before leaving the comforts of his makeshift bedroom. Though he had managed to keep own manhood, it didn’t stop the Groom from dressing him up to play his perverted game of house. He’d been through too many rounds of beatings and abuse to know to come to his husband when he called.

Eddie was waiting for him, dapper as ever in a tailored black waistcoat, slightly dirtied white shirt, and dress pants, he was getting better at making things from the patched outfit Waylon had met the engine version of him in. He smiled down at the younger man, electric blue eyes burning holes into him. Waylon felt his heart beat in his chest, a prickle of fear coursing through him but to his own disgust admiration was there too.

“I have a surprise for you. Come along Waylon.” The patient took Waylon’s hand in his, pulling him briskly through their home now strewn with handmade decorations. Bows crafted from clean straight-jackets he had found on a recent raiding expedition, dyed in what seemed to be blood by the rustic color the white material had turned. Waylon’s stomach no longer rolled and emptied at Eddie’s form of decoration.

“Everything looks wonderful, dear.” He rasped, a forced smile tugging at his cracked lips. The Groom looked back at him with a smirk.

“Well thank you, darling. I know you get fatigued easily, so I haven’t asked for your help. Though next year I’d like to see a little more participation on your end.” Eddie chastised him. Waylon was used to it by now enough to bow his head and mutter his apologies. He wasn’t even sure if he could make it to next year.

“Close your eyes.” The older man commanded despite making the effort to cover Waylon’s vision with his gloved hands. Despite his many faults, Eddie sometimes attempted an effort to make his brides existence a little less miserable. Waylon wasn’t sure what to expect from him now, but he prepared himself to feign joy for whatever it was. “Alright, darling dear. Open them.” Waylon swallowed as the image was revealed; it was a decorated tree.

It looked as if Eddie had taken if from the outside recently. He remembered there was an abundance of trees in various shapes and form on the grounds of the asylum. This one was definatly more shrub like than anything but it gave off the illusion of being like a typical Christmas tree. Eddie had gone about decorating it more with the rest of his supplies, making a garland of left over material. Left over cans were punctured and hung from the branches, supporting some sort of candle inside them. It was inventive to say the least. Waylon was more stunned at the efforts Eddie had gone through.

“Wow.” He found himself whispering in awe despite himself. The patient looked down at the younger man with glee.

“I knew you would like it, my dear. I saved the last part for you.” Gluskin presented the final touch which was another one of the bows he had crafted, handing it to Waylon, and before the man could protest he lifted the other effortlessly by his hips. Waylon let out a noise of surprise as he dangled in the air, nervously placing it at the top of the tree. Eddie lowered him down, mouthing praises to him as he turned the smaller man to face him.

“Our first Christmas together, darling. Can you believe it? Have I ever told you how much I love the season?” His captor looked down at him, looking completely at peace with himself. Waylon placed a hand gently on his cheek, running a thumb over his scars. Eddie leaned into the touch, letting out a sigh.

“I don’t think you have.” Waylon inwardly cringed. Hating himself a little more with how easy he now went along with it. “I am Waylon Park. I blew the whistle on Murkoff. I have a wife, Lisa, and two boys waiting for me. I’m alive. People call me the bride, but one day I’ll be free.” He mentally repeated.

“Oh my sweet little wife, you’ll soon learn. But first I have to find you a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This mostly came from a boring day at work, the music we play in the background is really old and slightly creepy Christmas tunes. It reminded me of something Mr. Gluskin would enjoy. Another useless collection of headcanons for Waylon. Originally I wanted to end it here and make it worse (i.e more gore filled) than it ended up being.


	3. The Present: Gift Giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie is craving a baby. Waylon's trying to stall for time. They both search for the perfect gifts to give one another before Christmas arrives. And oh look a surprise visit from Chris Walker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's almost three in the morning but I've managed to finish this on Christmas Eve. Please enjoy

Waylon rested his heavy head on his husband’s chest, curling up against the bigger man. He told himself that he only enjoyed it because he was touch starved. Not because it was inviting or even comforting to hear the older man’s steady heartbeat before drifting off, letting it block out the things hovering not too far from their home that howled and screamed in the night. But just as his eyes became too heavy to keep open, Eddie pulled him up for a lazy post coitus kiss. Waylon responded with what little energy he had left. He seemed sated for the moment, but the Groom had been more enthusiastic in their love making as of recently. Instead of their usual of having sex once a night, the older man initiated it (Eddie always initiated it so as his Bride wasn’t a filthy slut) two even three times in an evening. Eddie ran a hand down the younger man’s torso, rubbing soft circles along his stomach. It was these quiet moments when Waylon had to remind himself the damage those hands could do to him.   
“I’ve thought long and hard about what I want for Christmas, and though darling you may have your own plans on what to get me.” Eddie smirked from the less scarred portion of his face, filling his bride with dread. “All I want for Christmas is a family, one I can celebrate with next year of course.” Waylon’s stomach churned and he fought to keep a straight face. He was fucked beyond belief, sitting on a tower of lies he had created for himself to keep himself alive for another minute in Mount Massive but they were catching up to him quickly. He only had a little longer before his husband suspected something might be wrong with his womb. Eddie wasn’t dumb, he was an intelligent sadist but living under a delusion.   
“I-I know, we’ve been trying. It will happen when it happens.” Waylon steadied himself to place a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. He was met with a sigh and a roll of a pair of too bright blue eyes.   
“I’m just impatient, you must understand I’ve waited an eternity for a loving wife and a family. Now that I have you, I want what follows.” It was the same spiel he had told Waylon the moment they met face to face. But it didn’t stop the overwhelming urge to retch.   
“I know, husband.” The patient seemed content enough at the moment, he seemed more inflated every time Waylon called him that. The subject dropped quickly as both felt the heaviness of the day. Eddie was snoring lightly, while Waylon lay draped on him, eyes closed and allowing his mind to wander on what he needed to do to keep going. He fell asleep affirming that he needed to do something to keep the Groom’s mind off of a baby.  
~~  
It didn’t take much to crawl through the air vent, but his heart still hammered in his chest as he entered the rest of the asylum. It had been awhile since he’d last been outside of Eddie’s domain, however this time he wasn’t trying to make a run for it. No, he had managed to convince his husband he’d return to him and with a slew of vibrant curses, he was granted permission to leave but only for so long. Perhaps Eddie’s words had affected him because the part of him constantly whispering about escape was being proverbially squashed by the sense of hopelessness brought on by the fact that he wouldn’t make it on his own and that Eddie would find him like every other time he tried to run.  
Beads of sweat dripped down his face as he made the decision to exit the safety of the vent, flopping helplessly to the rotting ground below him. His ankle, the one he had injured in his first attempt to run from the Groom gave a groan in protest. It had healed but it didn’t stop him from having a limp and an ache whenever he applied too much pressure. It would hinder him if he had to run and he was never strong enough to fight, but for the moment the area seemed empty.  
Waylon crept down the hall, side pressed against the wall and half crouched. He listed for any sounds of variants nearby as he continued on, not entirely sure of what he was looking for. He needed to locate an area that hadn’t been raided, but the likelihood of that happening was slim. He heard something shift behind him and made a run for it, dashing down the hall and making a sharp right turn. “Shit!” He cursed his luck as he ended up at a dead end, with only a single room nearby. He checked to see if it was locked, finding it opened easily but something wedged behind it made it so the door opened only slightly. His dark eyes glanced around before he attempted to pull himself through. It was a tight squeeze but he crashed right through, finding himself in what must have been an old supply room.   
For once, things were looking up for him. Waylon gazed at walls of uniforms for Murkoff employees, ones he remembered during his short time working for the company. He ran a hand along the line of cloth, crisp clean white and bright blue. It was the perfect collection for a certain tailor waiting for him.  
“Material!” He hummed to himself, desperately searching for something to put it in. He found a duffle bag abandoned in a locker, dumping its contents out and filling it with as much shirts as he could. Once satisfied with his hall, he looked towards the barrier in front to the door. Another metal crate, he had moved them before but they always made a great deal of noise in the process. “I’ve got one shot at this.” Waylon thought for a moment before pushing against the crate. It didn’t move immediately but as he put his weight into it, it scrapped along the floor. He huffed, feeling his arms begin to quiver. Was he really this weak after spending time with Gluskin?   
He paused once the door was free of the obstruction to catch his breath and listen for any movement from the outside. Everything was so ominously quiet, a piece of him whispered how he should have never left Eddie’s side. But he couldn’t stay here any longer, time wasn’t on his side. Waylon cracked the door open, peeking out into the hallway and finding it empty. His relief only lasted a moment before the sound of chains rattling hit him. A painful wave of nostalgia rose and crashed over him as the huge beast with the mutilated face walked in his direction. He quickly dashed into the locker he had found the bag in, hoping the old trick would work.  
It wasn’t long before the beast smashed the door open by the creature that at some point was a man but now resembled the best of Mount Massive’s patients. His face forced into a grin and nose completely missing, while he sported chains on his wrists and legs. Whatever he called himself stalked around the room, yellow eyes flicking back and forth for any signs of movements. He was the epitome of an apex predator looking for its next prey. Was prey becoming scarce for him? His hulking form made Waylon doubt that his husband could even take him on in a fight and Gluskin was as dangerous as they come. He snarled, whipping his head around before retreating back outside with an utterance of his favorite word, “Pig.” Waylon felt his knees give way under his body.   
~~   
The next few days passed by quickly without any incident mostly from Eddie being in a pleased mood with everything. Christmas came with the announcement on the small work room’s radio and the light blanketing of snow over the small courtyard of the couple’s home. Waylon gazed out a half broken window at the scenery. It almost felt like the holidays of his childhood, the ones where he would run out with his sisters to play in the snow after opening gifts in the morning. He couldn’t help but wonder if they missed him, if they even knew he was alive. And Lisa, and the boys, who are missing him now for Christmas. He bit back bitter tears threatening to form in his eyes. “I’m not going to let them go without me any longer.” He swore to himself just as he felt warm arms wrap around his waist.   
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Eddie practically purred in his ear, pressing his scarred lips against his neck. Waylon’s eyes rolled back as he shivered at the sensation. The Groom didn’t wait for an answer before turning him around to face him. “Our first Christmas together! Oh darling I’m so excited. I can hardly wait to give you my gift.” Waylon didn’t have a clue what the patient wanted to give him, though he was willing to guess it would be something handmade. Probably another dress, though he already had plenty to choose from (after all they were his only form of clothing after Eddie shredded his patients uniform.)   
“Merry Christmas, Eddie. You didn’t have to get me anything.” Playing the coy wife was becoming too natural for him. He let a soft smile pass on his lips as he pressed a hand to his husbands face. Eddie cupped it with a gloved hand, he always tried to look his best in his clean suit and bow tie (when he wasn’t caked in blood and grime from dealing with the “whores and maniacs” who dare enter his home.)   
“Oh but I wanted to. So of course I did. Come along, Waylon.” He pulled Waylon’s hand away but not before peppering his knuckles with kisses. Ones that didn’t make his heart flutter in the slightest before he was pulled back towards the tree. When he made it back after his scavenging mission, he hid the duffle bag before Eddie could even question him about. Just before bed the previous night he had fished it out of its hiding spot and placed it unceremoniously under the tree. Gift wrapping was never his forte and his options were limited enough as it is. Another more elegantly wrapped package lay beside Waylon’s own gift.   
“Let me go first.” Waylon slipped from his grasp to collect his gift, praying to something out there that this would be enough to hold off the Groom from craving a family for at least another day. He presented to him only to be received with a quirk of the good eyebrow. There was a patronizing way Eddie gazed down at him, like the times he’d ever ripped a dress or burnt their dinner. The one that said to him You’re unfit to be mine. The one that made him feel less than human but more like a dog needing to be scolded. But to his relief, it quickly dissipated with the opening of it. “It’s material for sewing. I know you’ve been running low recently…” Waylon stammered before he was cut off by a single finger pressing lightly against his lips.   
“I love it, darling. You know me so well.” Eddie pressed a kiss to his temple. “Ah blue, I’ve always thought it to be my best color. And there’s so much of it. You did wonderfully.” Waylon wanted to purge himself of the butterflies forming inside him with each compliment and praise. The Groom set down his gift though he looked eager to return to it. He grabbed the gift meant for his Bride, delicately placing it in Waylon’s hands and gazing at him with the excitement one would see from a child first learning the art of reciprocity. Without further prompting he removed the paper used to cover it with ease, revealing a box marked 2536: Waylon Park.  
He felt like he had been punched in the gut; it was some relic of his life before being forced down the aisle. He opened it revealing to his own delight a few of his old things, confiscated by Murkoff after his betrayal. Inside he found; a few shirts, a pair of jeans (oh god could even imagine wearing jeans again,) shoes, the remains of the computer he had used to defy Blaire, and finally his wedding ring sitting there golden on top of the pile.   
“I do owe you a ring, my little wife. It doesn’t have a gem on it, but one day I’ll give you one. I found this out one day, I never knew your surname until then but it hasn’t ever mattered.” Waylon snapped to attention at the patient before him, who was looking almost smug with himself. There was no way that Gluskin understood how important this was to him or what it implied, but a part of him suspected the other man. The ex-employee tried to keep his breathing steady as Eddie slipped it on his finger, finding it fit just as well as it did the day Lisa placed it on him at their wedding.   
“Thank you, Eddie.” He choked out before wrapping him arms around the bigger man’s neck, embracing him despite himself. Eddie leaned down to give him a loving kiss, or one for him that wasn’t dominating and rough. Waylon responded almost eagerly to him. The Groom pulled away from him, resting his forehead on his Bride’s and expelling a content sigh.   
“Merry Christmas, Darling.”   
“Merry Christmas, Husband.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcomed  
> More stuff at my tumblr: nelsonkaspervanalden.tumblr.com


End file.
